


N7 Special Ops - Code Name: Angel

by ThePaganJew



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-06
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2018-01-14 17:51:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1275505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePaganJew/pseuds/ThePaganJew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lieutenant Salina Velasquez, aka Angel, is an N2 Alliance Vanguard. When the reapers attacked, all N training was cancelled and Angel was sent back under the command of her former captain. Now, her captain has a tempting offer for her. </p>
<p>Code Name: Angel is the first story in a series following various members of the N7 Special Ops.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Salina Velasquez, known to everyone as Angel, sat at the far end of the bar in the lower levels of Purgatory, a popular dance club on the Citadel, desperately trying to ignore the horrible dancing going on around her. She had overheard one marine call it “forget-my-problems dancing,” and she had to agree with that assessment. Looking down into her glass of some unknown bluish-purple asari alcohol, Angel couldn’t help but smirk. Ever since the attack on the Citadel by Cerberus, everyone had finally gotten it into their thick skulls that the war was real. ‘Bout time they all got with the program. Angel had been shopping on the Presidium, waiting for a message from her captain, when Cerberus had attacked the Citadel. She had spent most of the attack dashing between stores, making sure people were safe and protected. At one point, she had even thought she caught a glimpse of Commander Shepard. They had served in the same squad seven years before for a couple tours. Then again, that was before Shepard, the dorky but fun engineer, had become the famous Commander Shepard. Smiling to herself, Angel remembered one time when they had…

“Excuse me, miss?”

The intrusion wrenched Angel out of her thoughts. She turned around on her stool to find a young Alliance marine, still in his uniform, standing in front of her rather sheepishly. 

“I don’t mean to interrupt your staring contest with your drink, but would you care to dance?”

Picking up her drink and taking a sip, Angel took the time to check out the young marine. He wasn’t bad-looking, maybe a bit shorter than she liked, but strong and athletic without being overly muscled. As she took the time to look the man up and down, she watched his pale skin flush with embarrassment as he rubbed the back of his neck. Apparently he wasn’t used to being scrutinized in such a way.

Angel, on the other hand, was used to being noticed. At 1.8 meters tall, she didn’t need to wear heels to stand out from a crowd. The tight shirts and jeans that she enjoyed wearing did an excellent job of showing off her long ropey muscle, made for speed and agility, as well as her natural curves. Her thick midnight-black hair hung in waves down to her shoulders. The hair, along with her amber eyes and permanently tanned skin, were thanks to her Central and South American heritage. Salina did her best to present a feminine, girly front to the world, the kind that would make people see the curves instead of the muscle. She was rather girly naturally, but playing it up made people underestimate her and let their guard down. If someone tried to cause problems when she was around, she would rather they assume she was some vapid party girl. It meant that they would come at her unprepared. That had happened before, in seedier parts of the Tayseri ward, when some turian thugs had tried to mug her. They had been in for a big surprise when what they had thought was some easy mark, had turned out to be an N3 trained Alliance vanguard who had promptly kicked their bony asses.  
Knowing she needed to make up her mind about the marine, Angel considered two things: firstly, the man, while not exactly her type, was attractive and polite. Secondly, she could definitely kick his ass if she needed to. He’ll do for now. Finishing off her glass then setting it back on the bar, Angel took the young marine’s hand and led him onto the dance floor. Better show these guys how it’s really done. 

For the better part of an hour, the pair enjoyed each other’s company while dancing. He offered to buy her more drinks, and on any other night she may have accepted his offer, but she needed to keep a clear head tonight. Besides, good dancing was almost as good as a night of heavy drinking, when it came to blowing off steam. Thankfully, a group of asari had joined the crowd on the dance floor and began moving gracefully and effortlessly to the music. This considerably upped the quality of dancing much to Angel’s relief. Normally, Angel preferred males for her romantic and sexual partners, but she definitely had a weakness for asari. Then again, so did most sapient life forms. She especially loved the commandos and huntresses, which these particular asari didn’t appear to be. That saddened her for just a moment, until a pair of them came to dance with her and her companion. The young marine looked to Angel to see whether or not she minded. Angel could tell that, while he also enjoyed the additional company, he would ask them to leave if that was what she wanted. The sentiment was sweet, but Angel was a strong believer that there was no such thing as too much sexiness in one place. So she simply smiled at the young marine to let him know that it was okay, then continued to dance. 

Sadly, less than a minute later, Angel's omni-tool buzzed with an incoming message. She immediately stopped dancing and opened the message. Like she thought, it was from Captain Renault. The message included only two words: “It's time.” She closed the message and turned to the marine. "Sorry hon, time for me to go." She nodded to the two asari, then hurried out of the club without another word. Grinning to herself, she couldn’t help but think she was behaving a bit like Cinderella, simply dashing off when her omni-tool chimed. But I’ll be damned if I leave one of my shoes behind. 

Amusingly enough, the meeting location with Captain Renault was another club. This time, though, it was the Dark Star Lounge in Zakera Ward. While it wasn’t one of Angel’s preferred haunts on the Citadel, it did have ryncol, and there was a good noodle place within stumbling distance. There was nothing Angel loved more when she was drunk than a good bowl of noodles. Focus, Angel, focus. This is not the time to think about noodles. 

As Angel entered the Dark Star Lounge, she realized just how different it was from Purgatory. It was smaller, with fewer people, and while the music still had a driving beat, it wasn’t nearly as bone-shaking. Quickly scanning the room, which was easy due to the thin crowd, Angel spotted the captain sitting at the table closest to the dance floor. Captain Leonard Renault was a gruff bear of a man who looked like he should be living in a forest somewhere, instead of being a decorated leader in the Alliance military. With pale skin and a head of close-cut salt and pepper hair, he was a giant at a touch over two meters tall, and she didn’t even want to guess the weight of the overly muscled man. At forty years old, fourteen years older than Angel, he had risen quickly through the ranks, using a combination of brutally efficient tactics and amazing leadership skills. Captain Renault had been the one to teach Angel the particular combat style she now used, which was devastating at close quarters. He had also been the one to recommend her for admission to the ICT N7 training program. When the reaper invasion had put a - hopefully temporary - halt on everyone’s training, the captain had requested to have Angel under his command again. He had sent her on a variety of missions: everything from solo clear-all-the-enemies-out-of-this-hell-hole missions, to having her provide assistance to other species and help them shore up defenses. Working for Renault, she had spent the past month either by herself or in tiny units, a far cry from the large platoon she had belonged to before N7 training had started. A week before, one day before the Cerberus attack on the Citadel, the captain had messaged her to say that he may have an exciting new assignment that was right up her alley, and to meet him at Dark Star Lounge when he told her that it was time.  
Finally striding up to the side of the table, Angel snapped off a quick salute. “Captain.”

At that, Renault rolled his eyes. “Why do you insist on saluting me every time, Angel? I have told you many times that you do not have to pull that bullshit with me, not after all we have been through.” His voice carried a noticeable, but not unpleasant, French accent. Not the upscale Parisian accent, but a provincial one from the Champagne region, where his family had kept a vineyard for centuries. He gestured for her to take the seat across from him.

“You can keep telling me that, sir, but you’re still my captain and I’m still your lieutenant, even in a place like this.”

Once again, Captain Renault rolled his eyes. Reaching forward, he picked up the glass of wine in front of him and took a drink. As he swallowed, the color drained from his face. “Merde!” He reached for the other glass on the table, containing water, and drained the glass. When he was done, he upended the empty glass on the table, and shoved the wine away. “That was disgusting! My family makes much better!”

Angel tried desperately not to laugh. “I don’t know why you keep ordering wine, sir. You always make the same faces and say the same things.” It was true. Every place the captain went, he tried a wine, if they had any at all, that he had never sampled before. The result was always the same: he would curse, down the glass of water, and then state that his family made better wine at home. She had never once seen him happy with wine he had ordered. Because of this problem, his family made sure to send him two cases each of wine and champagne at the beginning of every year, to tide him over. It was always gone by July.

“But it is true! My family makes much better wine in their own home than the garbage in this glass!”

“Sir, that’s because your family is from one of the best wine regions in the galaxy and has been growing grapes and making their own personal wine for centuries.”

“Bah!” He waved a dismissive hand. “That is no excuse for such a poor vintage.”

Normally, Angel would have gone on talking to her captain for hours. They shared a similar sense of humor and had become good friends over the years of serving together. In fact, their rapport had become more like that of an older brother and younger sister than that of a soldier and her commanding officer. They would always spend at least twenty minutes on his wine tirade before switching to any other topic, but tonight was different. The Captain had sent his message and pulled her out of what otherwise may have been a very pleasurable evening with the marine, or possibly one of the asari from the dance floor. “Sir, you know I normally would enjoy our lengthy talks in a crowded bar, but you sent a message stating simply that it’s time?”

“Ah, yes, thank you, Angel. You know me too well. You have received a very special and unique work offer.”

“Sir, most of the work you assign me is ‘special’ and ‘unique.’ That’s why you asked for me back after the N7 training was suspended.”

“Hush! Now, I gave you those assignments for a reason. You were being tested.”

Leaning forward, Angel glared at her captain. She didn’t like being kept in the dark about matters like this. “Tested, sir?”

The captain reached over casually and smacked Angel on the back of the head. “Calm down, Angel. You know that I would not keep something like this from you unless it was very important. When I heard about this opportunity, I knew it was perfect for you. I did not want to have you get over-excited and fuck up this chance like you almost did your N training.”

“Okay, first of all, ouch.” Angel rubbed the back of her head. It didn’t actually hurt, but she would still give him shit for it. “Secondly, driving that damn Mako is harder than it looks. And third, if they didn’t want me to use all those missiles, they shouldn’t have given me so many.”

Renault pinched the bridge of his nose. This, too, was an old conversation. “The point of that exercise was restraint and subtlety, which you failed with flying colors. I did not want that to happen again so I did not tell you. Anyway, between my recommendation and that of Commander Shepard, you have been offered a place in a special task force.”

“Offered a place where? And wait, did you say Shepard recommended me for something? But how? Why? I haven’t seen her in years.”

“During the coup on the Citadel, she saw you fighting and trying to save those who you could. She remembered you from your time serving together and, like me, also thought that this opportunity would be perfect for you. So, she put in a recommendation.” 

“Ha! I was right! I did see her!” Angel slapped her knee. She knew that she hadn’t been making it up, but frankly, with the utter chaos that had been going on during the coup, she couldn’t be sure. “But sir, will you just tell me what the damn job is?”

A smug grin passed over the captain’s face. “You have been asked to join the N7 Special Ops.”

“N7 Special Ops? I’ve never heard of that, sir. Plus, I’ve only passed N2 training.”

“You do not have to be N7 to join. They got that name because it was originally N7 marines who led the squads. The squads are made up of exemplary soldiers and mercenaries who have done so well carrying out missions and securing holdings in enemy territory that they have been given the nickname N7 Special Ops. They are sent into unsecured locations in order to clear out an enemy, rescue civilians, and complete objectives, whatever needs to be done before the shuttle swings back around for extraction. Its members consist of all different species with a variety of talents, working together against our common enemies. This is what I have been testing you and training you for.” The captain leaned forward and looked his lieutenant right in the eyes. “You have been offered a position on one of the squads, but the choice is yours. Angel…Salina…This is the kind of work you were made for. Do you accept?”

Angel sat there, stunned. Her captain was right, this was everything she wanted. She loved working with small squads in dangerous areas: tearing enemies apart, doing what she had to, and getting out again. It was a mission like that where her first squad leader, Lieutenant Rivera, had given her her nickname. Since then, she had always gone by Angel. She lowered her head to stare at the table while she considered the captain’s offer, doing her best to drown out the now-unwanted dance music. She wanted to say yes so badly, but could she really turn her back on the Alliance like this? Sure, she had been mostly off on her own away from the Alliance for over a month, and sure, it was her captain and Shepard who had recommended her for this, but could she really step aside from the Alliance for who knew how long, to join an unknown squad? She did like the thought of working with aliens, though, especially perhaps some asari commandos…

As she was drifting into long thought tangents again, still waffling on her decision, a large, firm hand gently reached under her chin and lifted it. Captain Renault steadily held Angel’s gaze, a mischievous grin on his face. He seemed to pick up when Angel’s attention had shifted fully back onto him, because that was when he said the most beautiful sentence Angel had heard in her entire life. “You will get to play with missile launchers,” he promised, his tone playful and light.

A smile spread across Angel’s face then, now confident in her decision. “You know just what to say to a girl. I’m in.”


	2. Chapter 2

Thankfully, Salina had already packed most of her belongings. It helped that she had been expecting the message from the captain, as did having few possessions to begin with. Only an hour after accepting her new position, Angel was assigned housing in a recently repaired section of Tayseri Ward. Not all of the operatives were housed there, but the ones who were already on or near the Citadel had been given housing in the same building, so that groups could be shipped out quickly and efficiently. Thankfully, the building had not been badly damaged in the attempted Cerberus coup. If Angel had to guess, it was because it was located near some of the areas still without power or services, so why destroy an area that was already wrecked?

From what Captain Renault had told her, the building had been built to look similar to a hotel or dormitory, but with the express purpose of housing combat troops. Each person had what could be called a studio apartment, but frankly it was more the size of a spacious college dorm room with a kitchenette and, thankfully, a private bath attached. There were workout and training facilities, as well as a well-stocked armory and firing range, where you could try out all the gear before you went on missions. What delighted Angel the most was that she would have access to actual N7 weaponry. There was one particular weapon she had in mind, and if she could get her hands on it, she would be one happy camper.

Upon entering the building, Angel noticed that it looked very much like a hotel lobby. There was even a desk manned by a young female Alliance officer. _I guess if they’re holding onto the N7 in the title, they want to be staffed with some Alliance soldiers._ Duffle still slung over her back, Angel sauntered up to the desk. “Lieutenant Salina Velasquez reporting for duty.”

“Ah, Lieutenant. We have been expecting you.” While the young woman’s mouse-brown hair had been wound into a tight bun, giving her a severe look, she gave Salina a warm, genuine smile before typing away at the terminal.

“Please, call me Angel.”

The young desk clerk’s eyes stayed focused on her console screen. “Very well, Angel. You will find that here in Special Ops, we operate a bit more loosely than in the Alliance. However, when it comes to scheduling, we run as tight a ship. We may only get minimal notice before we find that a location is under attack. Therefore, each person has an on-call schedule. For a period of forty galactic standard hours at a time, you must be ready to exit the building for assignment within twenty minutes.” She paused for just a moment to look up at Angel. “You _will_ get called up during your on-call period, it’s just a matter of when, so be prepared.” Her eyes went back to her screen as she continued whatever she was doing. “What you do while you’re waiting to be called up is your choice, as long as you are ready, and sober, on time. We do have some facilities for you to use. There’s a mess that is always open, a gym, an armory, a gun range, and a library. Once you return from your mission, you will have one full day to rest. However, if things become overwhelming in the field, you may be called up sooner.” Once more the young woman stopped typing to look up at Angel. “Any questions so far?”

“Nope, I’m good. Two days on, one day off, subject to change at any moment. Got it.” Even with the two-day shifts, this was going to be easy for Angel. In her initial training at the N-school, there had been times when she had been up and active for more than twenty Earth hours at a time. Having a full day of rest, plus the time traveling back in the shuttle, almost sounded like heaven.

“Very good. Now, we already have your biometrics on file, courtesy of the Alliance, so you will be able to access all of the common areas and your new room, number ten-thirteen.”

“Ooh, thirteen! My lucky number.” That got a small smile out of the desk clerk. The old superstition among humans about the number thirteen being unlucky was still present, though mostly in the colonies. Angel, on the other hand, believed that the number thirteen held some amount of good luck for her. As someone whose job essentially included doing what she was told without dying, she would take any good luck she could.

“All right, your shift starts in six hours. Make sure you stop by the armory to set up your preferred weaponry. That way, it will be waiting for you when you’re called. Also, while you are there, make sure you get fitted for a new hard suit.”

“I get a new hard suit?!” Salina had been doing the best she could with the one she had, but the supply chains were pretty wrecked, and her past several missions had been extremely rough on her equipment.

“Yes, a custom one. You even get to pick out the color, lights, and pattern for it from what we have available. They do take anywhere from two to four hours to complete, though, so I recommend that the armory be one of your first stops.” The desk clerk tapped a couple more keys. “Okay, you are all checked in and on the roster. You’ll find the elevator at the end of the hall to your left.”

With a polite nod and a smile to the clerk, Angel jogged over to the elevator. First she needed to drop off her heavy duffle, then it was right to the armory. She was more excited about the custom hard suit than she should be but frankly, she didn’t care. The suits she had worn before had been boring in appearance, made to blend in with her fellow marines. Not anymore! Angel already had an idea of what she was going to do with her design, and the thought made her even giddier.

The elevator up to her room was just as slow as every other elevator in existence. _You would think that with all our superior technology, we could invent an elevator that’s faster than walking._ When she got to her floor, she quickly jogged to her room, opened the door, tossed her duffle inside without even setting a foot inside, closed it behind her, and jogged back to the elevator. With how slow the damn thing was, she didn’t want to have to wait for it if she didn’t have to. There would be time to unpack later, but now she needed to go pick out her armor and weaponry. Just the thought of her own custom armor and brand new weapons made Angel emit a girlish squeal. Though she was perfectly fine acting girly from time to time, she was thankful to be alone in the elevator where no one else could hear the embarrassing sound.

The gym and armory took up the entirety of the second floor; in fact, the elevator simply opened up onto the gym. Inside were more people than Angel had expected. Humans, asari, salarians, turians, even a handful of krogan and vorcha, were all making use of the various facilities and equipment. As much as she would have loved to join them and watch the plentiful eye candy, Angel scanned the room to find the entrance for the armory. She found it near the back left side of the main room and quickly made her way over. Working out would have to wait, and besides, her shift started in five and a half hours. She needed to get ready.

When Angel opened the door to the armory, two things instantly grabbed her attention. First was the enormous display of every type of gun she could think of, including some she had never seen before. The second was a lithe asari in purple and black armor, who was arguing with the older, grizzled looking man behind the counter.

“Yes, my paperwork is correct. That is not the problem. The problem is that _you_ will not give me the proper weaponry to do my work. I can’t believe I have to go through this every time I come down here.”

Even though the man was holding up his hands in a placating gesture, his tone of voice was condescending. “Look lady, your class is listed on your paperwork, and that is what determines your access to weapons. If you have an issue with it, bring me a letter from your commanding officer, and we’ll get it changed.”

“First of all, asari are mono-gendered, so I’m not exactly a lady. Secondly, as I have told you several times before, I was a freelance merc before joining this organization. I did not _have_ a commanding officer. Before each mission I have submitted a statement from the commando who recruited me for this outfit, stating my previous occupation and the weaponry I require. However, I cannot do so this time, as she is currently out on assignment and unreachable.” The asari, obviously agitated but trying to keep a collected front, wiped one of her hands over her face, which Angel still could not see.

“I am sorry, _miss,_ but unless I have that form, there is nothing I can do.”

It was then that Angel noticed that the clerk was trying his best to conceal a smug grin. He was enjoying turning the asari away! That just pissed her off. In Angel’s opinion, if you didn’t like other people or other species, then fine, just keep it to yourself. The fact that he was actively denying this woman the tools she needed for combat and survival was just plain repulsive.

Stepping forward, Angel slapped her palms upon the counter, startling the other two people present. When the clerk turned to her, Angel fixed him with the most intimating and cold stare she could muster. “Is there a problem here?”

An audible gulp came from the clerk. He was only able to meet her gaze for a moment before focusing on her chin instead. “No problem here, ma’am.”

“Well, it sure as hell sounded like there was a problem. Can you explain why you won’t give this asari whatever weapons she needs?”

“It’s because of how she’s registered in the system. She’s only allowed access to certain weaponry.”

“Alright, that’s bullshit and we both know it. The alliance lifted restrictions on who could carry certain types of weapons a while over a year ago. If you know how to use it, you can check it out.” Angel could see beads of sweat beginning to form on the man’s forehead. “From what I was told by my captain, the only restriction placed on us is that we are allowed a maximum of two weapons plus missile launchers on each mission. But then again, you knew that all along, didn’t you?”

Angel watched as the man began to sweat in earnest now, at the realization that he had been caught. Leaning in, Alex stared directly into his eyes once more. “I _will_ be reporting this to your superiors immediately. I have the feeling that once they begin digging a bit, they will see you’ve been pulling this shit with other non-humans as well. Leave. Now. Go get a replacement clerk, and if someone isn’t back at this desk within the next half an hour, I will personally make things even more unpleasant for you.”

The clerk bolted out of his chair, sending it clattering to the ground, before hurrying out the door and into the arriving elevator. Angel just shook her head at the fleeing man. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the asari also watching the man’s retreat. It was the first time that Angel had been able to see her face. Her coloring was almost purple with white facial markings, which paired with the white accent striping on her uniform to make her look even more striking and lovely. This was the kind of asari who was just Angel’s type: a strong, beautiful, confident warrior.

Before Angel could think of what to say, the asari turned to address her. “Thank you for your assistance. Was is true what you said, that we are allowed to carry whatever weapon we want without clearance?” Her tone was clear and to the point.

Caught a little off-guard by the asari’s directness, it took Angel a moment to process. “Uh…yeah. Like I said, two weapons max, plus the missile launchers. Other than that, you have access to whatever weapon you need if they have it in stock, or you have to supply it yourself.”

“Goddess, I feel like such a naïve maiden for not having seen through that man sooner. I guess that, working alone for almost two centuries, one can forget how to see such trickery up close.” The asari ran a gloved hand over her crests in exasperation. “It looks like I will have to return in half an hour for my weaponry, then.”

As the asari turned to leave without another word, Angel called out to her. “Hey, wait a second.”

The asari stopped where she stood in the doorway, then turned back to face Angel. “Yes?”

“It’s my first day here and I needed to get a new hard suit before my shift starts. That guy I just sent running out of here, was he the one in charge of that?” _Just keep her talking, Angel, then you can work your charms on her._

“No, there is a machine that constructs the suits for us. You will find it behind a door off to your right. You will need to strip, then it will do a full scan in order to take your resting vitals and measurements. After that, you will get a chance to customize it. Once it is done, you will receive a message via your omni-tool that it is ready to be picked up. Even for the most complicated suits, it rarely takes longer than four hours.”

This time, like before, Angel couldn’t even get a word in before the asari turned on her heel and left. “Huh...” Angel stood there for a moment and just rubbed the back of her neck in confusion. That asari didn’t act like most of the other asari she had met. She was sure that some of the higher-class ones must be quiet and reserved, but she was used to dealing with commandos, huntresses, and party girls. Shaking her head to clear her mind, Angel remembered what had brought her to the armory in the first place. A childlike grin spread across her face as she rushed toward the door, where the mystery asari – Angel really wished she had gotten her name – had told her she could find the machine to create her hard suit. It was built into its own room and, as promised, she was instructed to remove her outer clothing for a scan. The whole process took roughly twenty five minutes from start to finish, with the machine asking her first to hold still, then to perform various tasks in order to get base readings. Once she was dressed again, Angel practically skipped into the last room, where she could design the armor. Even knowing exactly what she wanted, it still took her almost ten minutes to get it just right. Now, all she had to do was wait. When she exited the room, she noticed that a new clerk was behind the weapons counter. Apparently, the first clerk had been able to get a replacement faster than anticipated. Quickly, she made her way back to the counter, almost as excited about her weapon selection as she had been about her armor.

This clerk was a young turian male, possibly from C-Sec. His bright red clan markings were amazing, and his voice was just as dreamy as most turian males’ when he spoke, “Good afternoon. How can I be of assistance?”

It took all of Angel’s self-control, of which she had very little to start with, to remain professional. “Yes, my name is Salina Velasquez. I’m here to submit a weapons request for my upcoming shift.”

The turian typed her name swiftly into his haptic interface and pulled up her file. “Of course, Lieutenant. Should I show you our list of shotguns, or did you have something already in mind?”

“No shotguns, thank you, just an Eagle pistol if you still have any.”

“I will just check our inventory list. One moment, please.” As the turian began to type away once more, Angel did her best not to bounce in place. She had always wanted to use an Eagle. Sure, they had a bit of a kick to them, but they were fully automatic with a decent punch for a pistol and good accuracy. Ever since she had started her N training and seen some of the N7s use them, she had wanted one.

“Good news, Lieutenant. We have one left.”

“Yes!” Angel couldn’t help but clap her hands once in front of her.

This caused the turian clerk’s mandibles to twitch in amusement. “Now, on to mods…”

After a couple minutes of discussion, Angel decided on the magazine upgrade and power magnifier. She also got a recommendation to try one of the Collector SMGs they occasionally got in, for next time. Afterward, she bid farewell to the clerk and tried to run through a mental checklist of what she had to do before her shift started in a little more than four hours. While she didn’t think she would be called up right away, she still wanted to be prepared. At this point, Angel knew that she desperately needed three things: food, a shower, and sleep. After her night out dancing, she hadn’t gotten very much sleep, and she didn’t know when she would be able to rest again, let alone get decent food. So, over the next three hours, that was what she did. She scarfed down a decent meal at the mess hall, followed by a shower and nap back in her Spartan but comfortable room.

The buzzing of her omni-tool woke Angel from her nap. It wasn’t the alarm that she had set to wake her when her shift started, but was a message notification instead. The message read that her new hard suit was ready for a final fitting and pick-up. Angel was dressed and out of her room so quickly that, had it been a cartoon, she would have left a trail of fire in her wake.


	3. Chapter 3

The call to active duty came only three hours into Angel’s shift. While a little more rest and food would have been nice, she had to admit that she was excited to see some action with her new hard suit and weaponry. Working for Renault, usually off on her own, Angel had gotten used to dealing with wear and tear the best she could between missions. There had been one particularly grueling mission where her old reliable Predator pistol had died on her, and she had no choice but to complete the rest of the mission without a functioning firearm. That same mission, her abused armor had almost buckled under a particularly powerful charge into a Cerberus Atlas. She had walked away from that encounter with a couple of bruised ribs. Now, working with Special Ops, she had top-of-the-line gear that would get repaired, or even replaced if needed, between missions. She could get used to this.

Angel was the first to reach the ship where her squad had been told to meet. Some ships had been donated by governments that deemed them too ineffective for front-line use, but perfect to carry a squad or two to their various assignments. As Angel made her way to the small mess-plus-common-space on the ship to await her squad, she noticed the few crewman manning the ship, staring after her as she passed. Angel knew exactly why they stared. While many operatives chose to keep their uniforms in muted tones so as not to be easily spotted, Angel’s brand new hard suit was hot pink with a black underweave and black striping. Even the lights on the suit were pink. Even though Angel knew objectively that it may not have been the smartest choice, it was the right one for her.

Early on in basic, she had been mocked and tormented by some of the less progressively minded males in her unit. They had insisted that she would never be fast enough, never be strong enough, to make it as a marine. As a result, she had worked harder than anyone else, honing her skills until no matter where she was assigned, she was consistently one of the most dangerous and effective soldiers. Angel had shared her bright pink armor idea with Shepard when they had been stationed together. Shepard had fallen out of her chair, laughing and assuring Angel that one day she would indeed become a whirling pink ball of death. Now, that day had finally arrived. There was something about the idea of charging into a group of enemies, detonating her barriers into a Nova, and decimating the group, all while wearing fluorescent pink, that made her giddy. Now it was just a waiting game until the other squad members showed up.

Just as Angel was settling in at the table in the mess, a vorcha with tanned skin and black tattoos, and dressed in what could generously be considered a red and black loincloth, entered the mess hall. Angel kept a watch on the vorcha out of the corner of her eye. She had fought vorcha before, while clearing out a small Blood Pack compound. They were vicious, efficient, and deadly. She had seen some in the gym earlier, but didn’t expect to be fighting alongside one since there were so few of them among the operatives. Even though Angel was cautious, she knew that if vorcha were as smart as they were ruthless, this one would be a valuable ally. Plus, the vorcha wouldn’t even be here if it hadn’t been through some type of vetting process. _If I’m gonna have to trust it to watch my back, I should probably play nice._

“Hey, vorcha, what’s your name?”

Abruptly, the vorcha spun around on its foot…hoof?...to face Angel. “ _rrr…_ I called Grrnnnaarrrsshhhh”

“Man, that’s quite a mouthful, and too long to yell over coms. Is it alright if I call you ‘Grr’?”

“ _rrr_ …Fine.”

Angel motioned for Grr to take a seat across from her at the table, which he did. “So, Grr, what do you do?”

“ _rrr_ …Set things on fire, throw grenades, rip with claws! Fun things.”

“Sounds like a blast.” Internally, Angel laughed at her own pun. _Wait, fire_ and _grenades?_ Angel tried to remember all the different Special Ops categories in her head. She had seen the vorcha section, but had just skimmed over it. Just then, she remembered that all of the classes of this mission’s squad would be listed in their mission report. _Wow, that took way too long to remember. All the pink must be getting to me already! Oh well, it’s worth it._ Pulling up the mission report on her omni-tool, she looked over the roster. _Human female vanguard…duh, that’s me. Ooh, asari adept, nice…and vorcha sentinel. Ah okay, sentinel class, got it. Wait a minute, that’s only three of us._ “Hey Grr, do you know why we’re shipping out with only three of us instead of four?”

“ _rrr…_ Sometimes no need fourth, sometimes fourth meets us there, never know. Can also go in with smaller squad if request it.”

“Huh, that’s cool. Guess we’re just waiting on our last member. She has less than a minute to get here.”

As Angel finished her sentence, the asari from the armory came into the mess. “I am sorry to have kept you all waiting.”

“You were almost late to the ball, Cinderella,” Angel smirked. She was excited to see that the mysterious – and hot – asari was on her squad.

“Cinderwho?” The asari scowled confusedly toward Angel, who watched as recognition dawned upon the asari’s face. “Oh, it is you. Thank you again, for your assistance earlier with that clerk.”

“Oh, it was no big deal. The guy was being an asshole and deserved whatever punishment he got. So, according to the manifest, you’re an adept.”

“Technically, yes.”

“ _rrr…_ What mean ‘technically’? Asari good with biotics.”

“Fair point, Grr. What do you mean, ‘technically’?” Angel found herself becoming more and more curious about this mysterious asari.  “And what did you need from the armory? You really are quite the mystery, um…I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught your name. I’m Salina, but you can call me Angel, and I’m calling him Grr.”

Grr nodded his head toward the asari. “ _rrr_ …”

“Nice to meet you both. I am Reila. Relia T’noya. And as far as my skill set and the weapon I needed, that is easy to explain. For the past two centuries, I have been a freelance sniper.”

“A sniper? Really?”

“ _rrr…_ Snipers cowardly. Should tear enemies apart with hands.”

“Yes, I use lightweight sniper rifles and stasis to help take down targets quickly and efficiently.”

Angel whistled. “I am impressed. Stasis to hold them in place, and then a nice clean headshot.” She could see how such a tactic, if you were able to keep your recharge speed high, could be extremely effective. You could take down targets with precision headshots as quickly as you could cast stasis. Brilliant, really. Angel found herself becoming even more impressed with Reila.

“Exactly.” A small smile crossed the asari’s features for a moment. “I am glad someone understands. Most people don’t understand just how effective a method it could be against infantry units.”

“ _rrr_..Enough talk. Make plan now.”

That caused Angel to blink at Grr in surprise. Most of the vorcha she had encountered had just chosen to attack with mindless ferocity, not caring about tactics. “Sure, buddy, sounds good. Anyone know about where we’re going?”

“ _rrr_...Reactor close to meltdown, need to stop it.”

“Yes, that’s what I have heard as well.” Reila pulled up a map of the Reactor on her omni-tool. “Also, it appears as if Cerberus has made attempts to control this reactor before, and may try to take it from us. Our job is to go in, vent the reactor as needed, and clear out any resistance. There will be an engineering crew in orbit, which will attempt to make remote repairs to keep it from meltdown.”

“Sounds good, so what’s the plan?” Angel leaned in to take a better look at the map.

The trip to reactor took several hours, during which time they were able to come up with a simple but effective plan. Reila would camp near the back of the reactor with a clear line of sight, picking off anyone she could. Angel and Grr would take whatever they could close up, and try to funnel whatever enemies they could through the reactor to create a choke-point. Each person would keep an eye on their open left side, just in case.

Once the shuttle landed, the trio grabbed the rest of their gear and headed out. The shuttle took off almost before the last pair of boots hit the ground, with only a warning that they would have two minutes’ notice to get back outside for extraction. Angel ran one last systems check on her suit and hardware. Everything was in working order. Just as she was about to give the order to move, a faint whistle pierced the air for a few seconds  before a large object crashed into the ground several meters to their right. Instantly, all three squad members had weapons drawn and pointed at the object, waiting for the dust to clear.

After several long moments, the object began unfolding itself and stood to its full, and towering, height. What had first appeared to be a ball of shiny metal turned out to be a bright red geth prime unit. Before anyone could open fire, all three omni-tools beeped with an incoming message. Angel shifted her eyes away from the prime unit momentarily to watch as Reila lowered her Valiant sniper rifle to open the message.

“It is all right. Apparently, this geth prime unit is the last member of our team.”

Angel lowered her weapon first. This day just kept getting better and better. She had heard about the large geth prime juggernauts platforms, able to take a ton of damage and melee the big baddies until they just melted into a pile of goo. They were slow, but epic.

Glancing to her left, Angel noticed that Grr still hadn’t lowered his weapon. “Hey Grr, come on, lower the Disciple already. He’s on our side.”

“ _rrr_ …” Grr did not lower his asari made Disciple shotgun.

An idea popped in Angel’s mind. “Grr, this guy is made to hold all the big baddies for us. So, they’ll be in a nice tight cluster for you to throw your grenades and use your flamethrower.”

Grr turned to face Angel. She could swear that he had what could only be described as a childlike mischief in his eyes, the kind that came from kicking down sandcastles or pulling someone’s pigtails. He lowered his weapon, but still kept it out, which Angel had to admit was a smart move if they were about to head into the reactor.

During the exchange between the trio, the geth had not moved except to flap the plates around its singular flashlight eye. Angel took several steps toward the unit before extending her hand. “Hi, my name is Salina, but you can call me Angel.”

Once more, the eye lights flapped several times before it spoke in a deep rumbling basso, “Angel, noun, from Earth Christian doctrine. Oxford dictionary defines an Angel as a spiritual being believed to act as an attendant, agent, or messenger of God, conventionally represented in human form with wings and a long robe.”

Angel blinked several times before responding, “Yeah, that’s right, sorta. So, what’s your name?”

“We are geth.”

“Yes, I know you are geth, but what are _you_ called?”

Again, the flaps above the eyes flared in what looked like consideration. “Geth.”

From what she had heard about the geth Angel knew that this was not an uncommon response. She stood for a moment, looking over the unit, before coming to a decision that made her smile. “I’m gonna call you Devon.”

This geth seemed to cock its head at her before responding, “Please specify. What is a Devon?”

“Devon is the name of a childhood friend of mine. He was a big guy and protective of his friends. He could take a lot of punches and keep on coming, like you. Plus, his favorite color was bright red, just like you are.”

There was more fluttering of the flaps. “This unit will respond to the designation Devon.”

It was then that Reila stepped up next to Angel. “You seem to have a propensity for nicknaming people,” she observed dryly.

“Damn right I do, Sniperella. Come on, it’s time to get moving. Why don’t you fill Devon in on our plan?”

Angel began walking toward the reactor, and smirked as she heard Reila mutter a confused “Sniperella?” from behind her. The asari hung back to walk with Devon, explaining their tactics to him.

After a few paces, Grr sidled up beside Angel. “ _rrr…_ Time to kill things now.”

“Damn right it is, Grr. Damn right.” _This is gonna be fun._


	4. Chapter 4

“Ugh, this is _so_ not fun!” Angel whined.

The first several of waves of Cerberus troops had been mostly uneventful. Most had been easy enough to wipe out, though the dragoons and guardians were always a pain in the ass. Guardians, with their shields, were a large reason why she had put the piercing mod on her pistol in the first place. The clusters of troopers and centurions were the most fun, since Angel had a wonderful time charging into groups of them, then letting loose with a Nova, sending the enemy troops flying. This time, though, the squad had to hack into a system and delete files on fleet movements. That sucked for two reasons: the first was that the easiest terminal to hack was _inside_ the touchy reactor, and the second was that in order for the hacking process to complete before the core had to be vented again, they all had to stay within a certain radius of the terminal. Otherwise, the many programs they were running on their omni-tools in order to destroy the records would lose their effectiveness.

If Angel were to start charging around, the download would slow down significantly. Angel only charged close-by targets in order to keep her biotic barriers up. Everyone else seemed to be holding up well offensively, especially Grr with his flamethrower, keeping everything at bay at the center door. However, the nemesises – _nemeses?_ – were getting to be a real issue. They kept popping out of cover just long enough to get a shot off, then taking cover once more. Angel could tell from the constant warning tones that all of their shields were dangerously low. So now they were essentially fish in a barrel and it was pissing her off.

“That’s it, I’m going out there. Sniperella, watch my back. I’ll try to stay in good visual range.” With that, Angel took two steps out of the reactor and biotically charged, slamming into the nemesis that was hiding behind a half-wall at the top of the ramp near the extraction point. The nemesis flew several meters before falling into a crumpled heap on the ground. Angel made sure to pump a few rounds into the still-twitching Cerberus operative until she went still.

_{rrr…Human, watch your back}_

At Grr’s warning over her com, Angel instantly rolled forward, and not a moment too soon. As she came out of the roll, she could feel a weak shockwave hit her as a dragoon smashed its whips down right where she had been standing. Getting to her feet, Angel spun around to meet the dragoon, who was starting the leap for another smash, head-on in a charge. Thankfully, she had also equipped her shield booster as an extra precaution. The extra resistance meant that when she and the dragoon collided, Angel got knocked back a short distance, but the dragoon was sent flying to the base of the ramp. Moments after the dragoon hit the bottom of the ramp, his head burst like a rotten egg, from what could only be a sniper round.

“Thanks for that, Ella.”

_{That’s what squadmates are for.}_

Before she had a moment to catch her breath, Angel spotted a group of Cerberus troopers and centurions back in one of the alcoves. In a flash of pink, she barreled into the trooper at the center of the group. Without his centurion friends’ shields to cushion the impact, Angel’s charge crushed the trooper into the back wall with a sickening crunch, then let him fall lifelessly to the ground. Before the first body had even settled, Angel had detonated her barriers into a Nova, scattering the rest of the group. The troopers were all killed by the blast, but the centurions’ shields kept most of them alive. Angel didn’t have time to deal with them, though. As the bodies fell, she saw a turret that an engineer had just set out, swinging around to focus on her.

“Shit!” Angel’s barriers had only had a couple moments to recharge after that Nova, and her barrier wasn’t even up to a third of its normal strength, when the turret began firing. With another diving roll, Angel did her best to get out of the turret’s line of fire. Unfortunately, her barrier failed near the end of the roll and some ricocheting projectiles bounced off the far wall, lodging several small pellets in her left deltoid and thigh. She hissed in pain and took the chance to find cover behind a half wall.

_{Angel? Are you injured?}_ Reila’s voice came over the com.

“Yeah, Ella, but I’ll be okay. I’m not even gonna pop an ops pack. But be careful, we forgot one downside to our plan. If we don’t keep a closer watch on the perimeter, engineers are gonna put down turrets and make it a bitch to get back out. A turret is what almost took me out just now.”

_{rrr…Close by. Will take care of turret.}_

“Sounds good, Grr. It’s in the alcove near the extraction point.”

Moments later, the telltale roar of Grr’s flamethrower. Peering over the top of the half wall, Angel could see the flames tearing across the far wall, melting the turret into a little silver pancake. The whole exchange felt like it took an eternity, though only a minute had passed. Angel’s barriers were taking too long to regenerate on their own. She needed a target to charge. She slumped with her back to the wall, feeling the blood trickle down her thigh. _Ugh, fuck it. It’s no use holding onto these things if I’m just gonna bleed to death._ Popping an ops pack, her system flooded with a mixture of stimulants, nutrients, and medi-gel. Almost instantly, Angel sprang back to her feet, feeling amazing as her barriers amped back up to full strength. 

Of course, that was the moment that a nemesis tried to get a bead on her, causing Angel to drop back into cover. _I’m really starting to hate these chicks._ Popping just her head over the wall, she tried to get a peek of where the nemesis was hiding. She couldn’t see much, just some flashes of movement farther back in the reactor complex, but not much else. As she was about to jump out fully from behind her cover, the nemesis peered around the corner from the alcove and tried to take quick aim. Again, Angel dropped back down before her opponent was able to get a fix on her with that damned laser sight.

Angel counted to five, then bolted over her cover to make a dash toward the second half wall at the end of the hallway. As she ran, she could see the top of the nemesis’s head on the other side of the wall. _Perfect_. Sliding the last meter, Angel made haste to the second piece of cover. In a fluid motion, Angel reached over the wall, grabbed the nemesis, pulled her over the wall, and rammed a biotically charged fist right into her opponent’s face. She could feel the enemy’s head crumble beneath her hand, the body going still. When Angel pulled her fist away, it was oddly blood-free, probably due to the fully-contained face mask the nemesis was wearing. While she accepted, and sometimes even reveled in battle, Angel did not like the idea of bits of what used to be someone’s face, stuck to her new glove.

_{Angel. Grr. We require assistance.}_ Devon’s clipped metallic voice came over the coms. If Devon was asking for help, Angel needed to get her butt back to the geth and Sniperella. 

“Ella, what’s going on?” Angel was already charging a half-dead trooper on her way back to the reactor. Charging could get her from place to place much faster than running could.

_{Devon is in the heart of the reactor. The reactor has almost reached critical levels and requires venting. Devon is holding an Atlas, at least two dragoons, a number of troopers, and from what I can tell, at least one turret, trained on him. I’m running low on clips and cannot move, as there is a turret that will get a lock on me if I move from cover.}_

_Think, Angel, think._ “Devon, how are your shields?”

_{They are fluctuating, but staying between sixty and eighty percent.}_

“Are you a more heavily shielded unit to begin with? I know some juggernauts are, while others prefer heavy weaponry.”Angel had an idea forming rapidly in her mind, but she didn’t want to sacrifice a teammate to make it work. Quickly, she changed directions and charged into an engineer who was placing a turret down near the extraction point. _Not on my watch, asshole._ The turret, which hadn’t been fully deployed, exploded, turning the engineer into a shrapnel pincushion. Angel took an extra second to discharge her weapon twice into the engineer’s skull for safe measure.

_{We are a heavily shielded platform.}_

“Perfect. Trust me, stay in the reactor and do whatever you have to do to keep your shields as full as you can. Grr, head around to destroy the turret close to Reila. I’ll get the one on Devon and take care of the rest. I have an idea that should work.”

_{Angel, what are you doing?}_

Angel didn’t respond. She was near the extraction point and could see the turret roughly two meters from the base of the ramp, trained on Devon. The turret was still in perfect condition, unfortunately. Devon could handle a bit more fire, but this turret made it tricky for everyone. She would have her best shot of destroying it when it wasn’t focused on her.

When the turret began its next barrage against Devon, Alex charged, followed immediately by a Nova. That took care of the turret’s shields, but the armor was still in place. Rolling sideways to get out of line of fire of the opponents inside the reactor with Devon, Angel sprang to her feet, unloading several more rounds into the turret before slamming into it again. This time the unit exploded, sending her stumbling back several steps.

_{Angel, can you hear me? What in the Goddess’s name are you doing?}_

“Yeah, I can hear you. My turret has been dealt with. Sniperella, Grr, get away from the reactor. Devon, get those shields up as high as you can.”

Before anyone had the chance to ask any more questions, Angel ran forward and slammed her fist into the button to vent the reactor core. “Burn, you sons of bitches!”

_“Venting reactor core. Please evacuate the area immediately,”_ the automated system rang out. Angel could see some of the remaining troopers try to run toward the exits.

“Don’t let them get out!” While her first instinct was to charge in head-first, Angel knew that would most likely be a death sentence. Instead, she simply opened fire on the fleeing troops, either taking them down herself or forcing them to take cover inside the reactor. She could see and hear Grr’s flamethrower roaring into the reactor from the other end, effectively blocking off that escape route.

Seconds later, the doors came down, sealing the reactor for the venting process. Angel could hear the screams of the Cerberus troops inside as they were vaporized. While the sound bothered her, of course, she filed it away in a different part of her brain, to deal with later. She could deal with it after she was somewhere safer, not on an active battlefield inside a fuel reactor. After what seemed like an eternity, but was only half a minute, the doors to the reactor opened again. Thankfully, Devon was still alive and active, but so was the Atlas.

“Son of a bitch! How is that thing still up?”

From the other side of the reactor, Angel could hear the popping of Reila’s sniper rifle and the roar of Grr’s flamethrower. Instead of just charging in again, Angel decided to unload the rest of her clip into the Atlas. She did have the armor piercing mod, after all. _Plus, Atlases typically explode when you do enough damage_. No sooner had the thought crossed her mind, than the Atlas began to rattle. Angel rolled backward, putting another couple of meters between her and the Atlas before it exploded, showering the area where she had been standing with debris.

_{Angel! What were you thinking?! You could have killed Devon!}_ Reila sounded _pissed_.

“I knew Devon could handle it if his shields were high enough. I’ve read about juggernauts surviving more extreme conditions than that, as long as their shields are up. Plus, he still had the Atlas in there, so he had a constant shield battery on hand.”

_{I suppose I understand. We were under some stressful circumstances and your plan seemed reasonable to deal with all present threats.}_

_{rrr…Plan risky, dangerous. I like.}_

“Devon, how you holding up, buddy?”

_{Minimal damage. Shields are already returning to full power.}_

Angel turned and began to walk over toward a nearby ammo box. “Alright, folks. While we have this short lull, I’m gonna go get some ammo, then I’ll head back to your side, Snipere…”

_{Angel, behind you!}_

Reila’s warning came too late. Before Angel could process the asari’s warning, a small but strong hand gripped her shoulder, spun her around, and drove a sword right through her gut. The sword was yanked out and Angel fell to the ground. Just before her vision went black, she saw the phantom cloak herself and head through the reactor toward her friends.


	5. Chapter 5

“Angel…Angel, can you hear me?”

Angel tried to open her eyes, but it felt like they were glued shut. “Ugghhhh…I feel like someone just tried to gut me like a fish”

“ _rrr_ …That what happened.”

“Grr, that is not helpful.” Reila, once more, sounded pissed. _Thankfully, it’s not at me this time._ Her tone softened when she addressed Angel again. “You’ve been unconscious for several minutes. We had to defeat the last round of combatants before we had enough time to rouse you. Are you able to stand?”

“Aww, you sound like you’ve been worried about me Ella.” Angel couldn’t help but allow a small smug grin to develop under her helmet. She was grateful that Reila couldn’t see her face or else she had the feeling that the sniper may have decked her.

“Of course I was worried.” For a moment, Angel actually got her hopes up that she may be winning over the all-business asari. “If you had been killed, we would have had to complete this mission ourselves, making the whole thing more difficult.”

“And there goes all the magic.” Angel couldn’t help but huff a little.

“Excuse me?”

“Never mind.” Finally, Angel opened her eyes as a strong dose of medi-gel flooded her system. She was starting to feel even better than she had when they had first arrived. After several more seconds of letting the medi-gel circulate through her body, she bounced to her feet. All she could think of was finding more enemies to kill, especially any phantoms. It was time for payback. While she was typically easily excitable, Angel recognized the spike in excess energy. “Let me guess, I needed a _lot_ of medi-gel.”

“ _rrr…_ Yes. Asari used much.”

“No wonder I’m feeling so jumpy, like I could kill everything myself. Woo! Let’s do this!” Angel pounded her fists together enthusiastically, krogan-style.

“All right, we will stick to the plan. It has worked well for us so far.”

“You can do whatever you want, hot stuff. I’m gonna go kill me some Cerberus assholes.”

“Did you just call me ‘hot stuff’?”

“Hey, look!” Angel chose not to respond. _Damn it, I need to watch what I say. Apparently, too much medi-gel makes me chatty._  “Here come some new friends now! Hi, new friends!” Angel waved frantically at the two dragoons, four troopers, and guardian who were coming down the ramp behind Grr and Reila.

All at once, the Cerberus troops froze, seemingly confused by Angel’s jovial greeting. This gave Reila and Grr a chance to duck back through the reactor to their designated areas. The Cerberus troops had only just begun moving forward again, when Angel charged the dragoon in the middle of the group, calling out, “Who wants a hug?” The dragoon’s armor helped keep him upright, but a second later, the powerful Nova that Angel detonated knocked all the troopers to the ground and killed the dragoon. To her left, the guardian opened fire on her. Pirouetting nimbly, she unclipped her pistol and fired several rounds right through the slot in the shield, turning her opponent’s face to a bloody pulp. Completing her twirl, Angel charged the last dragoon, knocking it into the nearby wall before detonating a second Nova. The blast also killed the troopers, who had been trying to get up off the floor.

The next several waves went similarly, with Angel charging into any moving object she could find that wasn’t a squad mate. Turrets, dragoons, nemeses, even phantoms – _especially_ phantoms – it didn’t matter. She had finally become a whirling pink ball of death. Angel could occasionally hear Grr muttering over the come channel about how she wasn’t leaving enough enemies for him to kill, but she was on a roll in a way reminiscent of that fateful day when she had earned her nickname. While she felt jittery and erratic, her movements were fluid, with a dancer’s grace. During her medi-gel-induced high, Angel was able to grab three more opponents from behind cover, help Grr when he got knocked on his butt, and even take down an Atlas on her own. Angel had always thought it hilarious that one of the unit’s weak spots was its crotch plate. While this may normally cause giggles, hopped up on gel it caused hysterical laughter as she shot the Atlas’s crotch plate with her pistol and watched the whole unit explode.

The Atlas had been the last in the most recent wave of Cerberus troops. Running to the nearest ammo box, Angel decided it would be wise to check in with the rest of her squad. “Hey Sniperella, how are you and Devon holding up back there? Any sign of Grr?”

_{We are doing well. Also, Grr has been running around happily, throwing bombs and setting stuff on fire.}_

“Wow, sounds like you’re really starting to unwind and have fun, Ella.”

_{While I might not necessarily be having_ fun, _it is cathartic to kill these people after what their organization did to the Citadel.}_

Just then, a crisp male voice, most likely the captain of the ship that had brought them on this mission, chimed in. _{Attention! We got lucky. There are key enemy personnel in the area. We’ve tagged them to show on your omni-tool. Find them and take them out.}_

Even though her medi-gel high was wearing off, this was the moment she had been waiting for. Angel clipped her pistol onto her hip and pulled the missile launcher off her back. “Alright, kids. It might be best to stay away from the big stuff right now. It’s time for me to have some fun with missiles.”

_{rrr…Not if I beat you to it.}_

If Angel wasn’t mistaken, Grr’s tone sounded downright playful. _I_ knew _I liked that vorcha!_

_{Just be careful, you two. Devon and I still have things under control over here, for now. However, the reactor will have to be vented within the next several minutes, so we need to hurry. Though, between you, Grr, and the missile launchers, I believe this will go smoothly. Just don’t fire on anything flammable or explosive.}_

“Aww, but where is the fun in that? Come on, Grr. Let’s blow up some bad guys.”

_{rrr…Yes!}_

The first target pinged on Angel’s omni-tool. It looked like it was an Atlas near the center of the map.

“Mine!” Angel raced past several troopers coming toward her, flying right through the cluster without stopping. The Atlas was on the lower level of the middle section. Quickly, she took aim right at the Atlas’s feet. It would destroy the unit just the same as a body shot, but with a much lower risk of missing the target entirely if it moved.  Smoothly, Angel pulled the trigger, and within moments, the missile slammed right into the Atlas’s ankle, blowing up the bulky enemy unit and the small group of miscellaneous troops around it. After the first target was destroyed, a second target lit up on the omni-tool display. This time, it was across the reactor from Angel.

After only running a couple steps toward the next target, there was the telltale boom of an exploding missile. The marker for the second target went dark on her display.

_{rrr...Ha! This fun!}_

_Well, at least he’s got that part of the map covered._ The third target popped up on her display, this time inside the reactor.

_{I believe this one is mine.}_ The sound of a Valiant sniper rifle cut crisply through the air, and the third target went dark. _{I do have to admit, it is fun hitting those guardians through the slot in their shield.}_

Finally, the fourth target pinged on the screen, right next to where Reila was camping.

“Sniperella, incoming on your left.”

_{I see them, but I could use a little help. We’ve got a group that’s just a touch too large and close for my liking.}_

“Coming!”  Running forward a several meters, Angel spotted the nemesis hanging back from the main group, hiding in a small alcove.  Normally, she would have killed off that nemesis immediately, but only a couple meters in front of her were another nemesis, two guardians, two centurions, a dragoon, and a phantom. Plus, Angel was still holding her missile launcher.

“Oh, _hell_ no!” Angel watched as the group of enemies turned to face her. “You fuckers do _not_ try to kill the cute one on the squad.” With that, she squeezed the trigger on the launcher, placing her shot once more at the ground in the center of the group. As the missile exploded with a room-shaking boom, Angel took some extra pleasure in the fact that the phantom happened to be closest to the center. She had a feeling she would especially enjoy taking out phantoms for a while.

“So,” Reila’s head popped out from behind a console she had used for cover three meters away, “I am the ‘cute one on the squad’?” A smirk played across her purple lips.

“Well duh, Ella. Who else would it be? Grr?”

The pair smiled at each other for a moment before gunfire began bouncing off of Angel’s barrier. Before Angel could finish clipping the missile launcher back into place on her back and pull out her pistol, Reila had already put the trooper in a stasis field and shot it through its right eye.

“Nice shot. Guess we should finish cleaning these suckers out.”

“Agreed. We should talk about this ‘cute’ thing later, though.”

“I’d like that.” With a stupid grin on her face, Angel jogged off.

The group picked off the stragglers that hadn’t been killed by the missiles. _{rrr…All clear.}_

_Hopefully, there won’t be much more than this. Being around a critical reactor is making me nervous._

_{Alright, everybody. I’ve got some good news and some bad news.}_ The voice of the ship’s captain came on over their coms. _{The engineering team is almost done with repairs. Vent the reactor one more time, and your job will be done. A shuttle is on the way to extract you, ETA 2 minutes. Unfortunately, you have more Cerberus troops inbound, so you’ll have to be at the extraction point right on time, or you may be left behind. Stay alive, troops.}_

“Alright folks, you heard the man. Stay alive and get to the extraction point on time. Devon, I know you’re not too fast, buddy. How long will it take you to get there?”

_{We will need forty-one point one nine seconds to reach the extraction point.}_

“Sounds good. Just make sure to leave with enough time. Let us know if you get swamped. Actually, let’s vent the reactor now. We don’t want to forget on our way out. Devon, head toward the extraction point. When you exit the reactor, set it off.”

_{Understood.}_

Several moments later, Angel heard the reactor’s warning to clear the area, followed by the venting procedure. Everything else was eerily silent. _The Cerberus troops should have been here by now._ Shots from a Valiant sniper rifle rang through the otherwise quiet reactor.

_{Looks like they found a back way in. I could use some help.}_ Angel could tell by her tone that, while Reila was doing her best to stay calm, the asari was definitely concerned.

“I’m close by. Be right there.” Once again, Angel exchanged her trusty pistol for her lethal missile launcher. She was on the top level, halfway between Reila and the extraction point. The run wouldn’t be long, especially if there was at least one target she could charge, which there was. Angel saw a dragoon leap, smashing its whips into the ground where Reila crouched, sending the asari flying back into a wall.

Without another moment’s hesitation, Angel charged the dragoon, sending it flying back into a large group of Cerberus operatives that had seemingly appeared from nowhere. She couldn’t tell just how many troops the group consisted of but there were a pair of Atlas mechs right at the heart of it, making the area a dangerous place to be right then. Swiftly, she placed herself between Reila and the group, firing the missile into the chest of the first Atlas mech, impossible to miss at this close range. Between the missile and two exploding Atlases, the entire group was obliterated.

Angel spun around to face Reila. “You okay?”

Without warning, Reila’s hand whipped forward, missing Angel’s cheek by a fraction of a centimeter. Reacting on instinct, Angel rolled sideways. As she moved, she watched as Reila lifted her rifle and fired at the phantom, now in stasis, weapon raised to strike right where Angel hand been standing. The phantom’s head practically dissolved from its shoulders.  Angel just gawked at the asari.

Reila smiled softly toward her. “I’m fine.”

_{Estimated time to arrival is 30 seconds. We require assistance if we are to make it. We are surrounded at the base of the ramp leading to the extraction point.}_

“Sniperella and I are coming, Devon.”

Missile launcher still at the ready, Angel began running into the reactor, Reila on her heels. She could see Devon absolutely surrounded by Cerberus agents. If he stopped replenishing his shields long enough to make it to the exit, they would cut him down.

As Angel raised her launcher to fire, an explosion blasted the pile of Cerberus agents apart. Grr stood at the top of the ramp, grinning viciously.

“ _rrr_ …Could not let human have all the fun.”

“Grr, you’re awesome.”

“ _rrr_ …’awesome’?”

“Never mind, I’ll explain later. Let’s go. I’ll cover our backs.”

Reila took point, taking out a couple troopers with perfect headshots as they made their way to the door. Angel could hear when Reila hit the button to open the doors that led out to where the shuttle would pick them up. It was quiet behind them, but Angel still kept her eyes peeled.

Just as she was about the exit the building, Angel saw one last phantom slink up to the top of the ramp. “Oh, what the hell, why not?” And even though it was only a single phantom, Angel fired her last missile, hitting the ground less than a meter away from her enemy. Angel turned and exited the building before the body of the phantom came to rest in several small chunks on the ground.

Outside, Angel saw their shuttle incoming, as well as a second shuttle already landing and dropping off what appeared to be a second squad, even more geared-out than their own. _They must be here to clean out the rest of the Cerberus troops, now that the reactor is fixed._ As they passed, Angel noticed that the new squad consisted of all N7s: a demolisher, a fury, a paladin, and a destroyer. Even as she kept running to meet their shuttle, Angel thought of how lucky she was. Sure, she may not be an N7 – yet – and she did miss working with other Alliance troops, but now she got to work with a varied and interesting squad that had accomplished a great deal. Finally, Angel clipped her now empty launcher into its place on her back before being the last to climb up into the shuttle. _Full extraction. Nice._

The shuttle ride back to the ship was blissfully short, and the three organic members of the squad shuffled their way to the mess hall for the protein bars kept onboard for consumption after missions. Angel was the first to take a seat at the long mess table and open the seals on her helmet.  The helmet seemed to peel off of her. While it was carefully climate controlled, the combination of medi-gel high and combat had caused her to break out into a sweat, anyway. Her dark hair was plastered to her temples before she brushed it aside. As Angel was about to open her protein bar, Reila sat down next to her, protein bar already unwrapped.

“I believe we said we would continue the discussion of you referring to me as ‘the cute one on the squad’ after we were finished with the reactor.” While Reila still looked stoic and controlled, there were a slight upturned bow to her lips and a playful sparkle in her dark blue eyes.

Setting down her protein bar, Angel leaned in toward Reila, propping up her chin on her fist. “I was thinking we should go out to dinner, or maybe some dancing, when we get back and get all cleaned up.”

“I would like that.” Reila finally smiled fully, making Angel’s heart skip a beat. “So Angel, I must ask, how did you get your nickname? I know a little of Earth religious beliefs, and I was told that angels were divine messengers. However, you have shown to be ruthless and destructive in battle. I do not understand.”

Angel couldn’t help but laugh. No one had asked her about her name in a long time. “Well, Ella, the name was given to me by a former lieutenant. In truth, Angel is just the shortened version of the name. I was a mission on Earth, down in an area called Colombia. I was dropped into a hot zone with five other squad mates in the middle of the night, to clear out a compound. I can’t tell you why, that’s classified, but by morning, all five other members of my squad were captured. I killed all two hundred enemies in that compound over the course of the following day. By the time Lieutenant Rivera and the rest of the unit arrived for support, everyone was dead and I had freed my squad mates. It was then that the Lieutenant began calling me Angel de la Muerte, which means Angel of Death. Just Angel tends to work the best when introducing myself. The rest of the name tends to creep people out.”

Behind her, Angel heard a hoarse grating sound. Spinning around in her chair, she spotted Grr laughing at her. “ _rrr…_ Good story. I like your whole name.”

Angel couldn’t help but laugh herself, before turning back to Reila. “So what do you say, Ella? Still want to go out with me after hearing about how I got my name?”

For several moments, Reila was silent and Angel just held still, trying to remain calm as Reila looked her over. 

“Yes. From what I have seen of you, I can tell that our evening will be very interesting.”

“Damn right, it will be.” In Special Ops for less than two days, and Angel had gotten a new pink hard suit and powerful gun, she had gotten to play with missile launchers, and now she had a date with a smokin’ hot asari. She was going to have to get the captain a present for helping her land what was truly a dream gig. _Maybe he’d like a membership to a wine of the month club, or something. And maybe a spit bucket._


End file.
